


One of the Hard Days

by Siancore



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Bucky owes Shuri, Dark!Shuri, Shuri has actual feelings, Shuri has feelings of anger and resentment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 02:36:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21500458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siancore/pseuds/Siancore
Summary: One-shot that I posted to Tumblr because the Shuri Udaku fic tag is lacking, mate.Inspired by what Letitia Wright said about Shuri: “… I’d definitely like Shuri to take on a darker tone…” and because I want to see fandom creatives give some more depth to her character instead of her constantly being their meme queen. Also, that tweet that erases Shuri’s generosity and talent by saying Bucky’s new arm was made by someone else really annoyed me. Set sometime between FATWS and BP2.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Shuri
Comments: 18
Kudos: 52





	One of the Hard Days

Some days were harder than others. Some days, Shuri would make a new discovery in the lab, and the first person she wanted to tell was her father. Her excitement would swirl around inside of her until it overflowed, and she would rush toward the door, eager to share the news with the King. Then, the realization would hit her, and she remembered: Her Baba was dead. And even though it was true that the departed go to the Ancestral Plane, knowing that did not stop her tender heart from aching for him. Even though many years had passed, it did not stop her from missing him. Today was one of the hard days.

The report was received in the early hours of the morning. T’Challa had confirmed with Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes was to leave that evening. The Princess felt sick to her stomach: Helmut Zemo had escaped imprisonment.

Shuri sat beside the lake and stared blankly out across the water. She did not hear Barnes approaching; his footfalls silent, even when wearing rugged combat boots. He took up a seat beside her; she glanced over at him. He looked different with his new haircut and a clean-shaven face out in the afternoon sunlight.

“You okay, Princess?” he asked softly.

Shuri shrugged her shoulders and then shook her head.

“Not really,” she proffered.

“Wanna talk about it?”

She glanced sideways at him; his eyes were filled with compassion and understanding. His gentle countenance urged her to speak, so she did.

“When my Baba died, it crushed my soul,” said Shuri. “But in our culture, death isn’t an ending. It’s more of a journey to another plane. I’m not sad that my father is there, now. He gets to be reunited with his parents; with his brother. And I am happy that he is with them. But the selfish part of me _still_ wants him to be here with us.”

Bucky nodded his head, and then said, “That’s not selfish of you. It’s natural to feel that way, even after all o’ this time. He should’ve gotten the chance to see all of the amazing things you’ve done; all o’ things you’ll _do_. But he was taken from you too soon and it’s not fair. So, it’s perfectly natural for you to still miss him and to feel sad. It’s okay to let your emotions out.”

A silence fell over them as the Princess dipped her head, agreeing with the soldier. She plucked a blade of dry grass and watched it fall from her delicate fingers and become swept up in the gentle breeze.

“You know, I hated you when it happened,” said Shuri, surprising Bucky a little. “My mother told me not to watch the news reports after the explosion, but they were everywhere on all of the networks. Your name and face were everywhere. And in my grief, I hated you. I wanted the authorities to find you – and I’m ashamed to say it now because you are my friend – but I wanted them to hurt you. I wanted them to kill you. That’s awful, right?”

“It’s understandable,” said Bucky honestly. “You had every right to be angry and upset. I get it.”

“I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it,” she said. “I wanted to run away and go after you myself.”

Bucky saw the pain in her eyes as she spoke about that time from their past.

“I still regret the part I played in it,” he proffered in earnest. “Still feel guilty.”

“It was not your fault,” she replied. “You were a pawn. Zemo used you. He violated you, too. I saw it, when my algorithm worked on you. I saw it all. You did nothing wrong.”

They shared an understanding look for a moment, before Bucky said, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, Sergeant,” said Shuri, as she nudged his shoulder with hers, effectively lightening the mood.

“Course I do, Princess,” said Bucky with a small smile.

A comfortable silence settled around them. Bucky picked up a stone and tossed it into the still waters; they watched as the sunlight reflected prettily in the expanding ripples.

“So, you’re leaving soon,” she said.

“Yeah,” said Bucky, as he ran his flesh hand through his short tresses. “Sam said he’s got a lead on where Zemo might be hidin’ out. He’s on his way, not waitin’ for me to get there; but I’ll get there. And I promise, I’ll catch the asshole. He’s not gonna get away.”

Shuri nodded her head and offered her silent gratitude, before saying, “And when you catch him, what will you do?”

She regretted asking the question as soon as the words fell from her lips. She knew what answer she wanted from the ex-assassin. But it was not fair to request from him what she really wanted. She knew the toll the past took on Bucky; how the weight of what he had done still sat heavy on his shoulders. She knew better than anyone because she had seen it when she cured him. He was her friend, now, and she could not ask that of a friend. She could not. Should not. Especially from him.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, not because he was offended by the meaning behind her question, but because he was considering his reply carefully. He took a deep breath and then tilted his head to the side a little.

“What did you want me to do?” he offered as they stared at one another.

Her chest rose and fell as she breathed in and out, steadying herself.

“You don’t do _that_ anymore,” she said quietly, penitently.

“It’s not like I _haven’t_ done it before,” he replied. “Besides, he hurt you.”

“He hurt both of us.”

“I can live with what he did to me,” said Bucky. “But what he took from you – just say the word, Princess. Say it, and I’ll do it. For you.”

She searched his eyes and saw that he was resolute in what he was offering her. She should not tell him to do it; she should not ask that of him. Yet, inside of her, this seething hatred for the man who took her father away from her was festering. She wanted an end to the torment; she wanted to know peace. But was asking Bucky to trade _his_ peace for her own the way she should do it?

“You’d kill him if I asked you to?”

“You fixed me, Shuri,” he answered evenly. “I’d do anything for you. I owe you.”

She contemplated what this meant, before getting to her feet.

“I’d never ask you to do that, Bucky,” she replied, as he stood up, too.

“Then what do you want me to do?” he asked, still wanting to repay her, even if it was with his specific skillset.

Shuri folded her arms over her chest as she thought about what the former Winter Soldier could do for her.

“Take me with you, Buck,” she replied, as a coldness settled behind her eyes. “I’ll kill him myself.”


End file.
